


Like Brother, Like Sister

by Xannbi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Divergent, Gen, Main character: Pidge, Non-ship for now, Potential minor shipping in the future, Potential violent situations so I tagged it just in case, Rescue Mission, Siblings, blade of marmora, longform, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-07-01 11:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xannbi/pseuds/Xannbi
Summary: What happens when your brother goes missing for years, only to find him and then lose him all over again?And what if you had to search for him at the same time you're caught in the midst of a war against the Galra?This fic is canon divergent from the middle of season 6, taking place when Voltron and the rebels are actively fighting the Galra (they have yet to reach Earth).





	1. Adrift

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, this is my first Voltron fanfic. I'm a sucker for sibling fluff (though that much should be obvious already), and I just had to write something about my favorite character, Pidge. I hope you enjoy.

The last thing Pidge remembers is her fellow Paladins calling out to her.

_"Pidge, what are you doing?!"_

_"Pidge, no! Come back here!"_

_"You can't do this, we'll think of something else!"_

_"Pidge, fall back in line! That's an order!"_

But Pidge didn't listen. How could she, when the main Galra ship had fired their ion cannon straight for the rebel ship that her brother Matt was piloting?

It was almost as if the Galra had known that the Green Paladin's brother was aboard that ship. That they had known the Green Paladin would throw herself in the path of the cannon without a second thought, just to ensure that Matt's ship would be safe from fire, even though the ion cannon would be charged up and ready for another blast within just minutes.

They should have had a better plan going into this battle. They were vastly outnumbered; the Galra had either severely damaged or obliterated several of the rebel fleet within one dobash of their arrival. And with so many enemy ships firing at them at once, they'd had no chance to form Voltron.

Which is exactly how and why Pidge seized her opportunity to save Matt and the rebels he was flying with. There was no other way Matt could have been safe from that situation. Pidge was the master of logic and formulating plans, and she _knew_ that this had been the only way.

So why had the other Paladins so desperately tried to tell her otherwise?

* * *

Her mind continues to play this memory of the Paladins' voices on repeat. She can't help but think, numbly, how desperate they sounded. How even Keith, their leader, sounded pained. He must have known that he couldn't have stopped her, no matter what he tried.

There's a pulsing pain in Pidge's head, and static in front of her eyes. She realizes she isn't sitting upright, but rather, she's strapped into her chair, dangling nearly ninety degrees upside down.

_Where am I?_ she thinks. _Where am I?_

_No, wait, that's my second priority,_ she mentally corrects herself. Even her trained mental protocol is out of whack. She must be seriously out of it. _My first priority is my state of health._

First she feels her head. Then she stretches her limbs-- at least as far as her seatbelt will allow her. There aren't any specific injuries she's suffered, but her entire body aches, like she's a ragdoll who's been thrown against a wall multiple times.

_I might as well be,_ she thinks sarcastically.

She blinks rapidly to drive the static out of her eyes. When she can see again, the first thing she focuses on is the spiderweb crack in Green's windshield.

Pidge squints to make out what's beyond the shield, but all she sees is darkness.

The control panel in front of her crackles and spurts electric sparks, trying to bring itself to life but failing.

"Come on, come on," she says out loud, her voice jarringly raspy. She coughs. "I know there's still some life in you, girl. You can do it."

She reaches for the joysticks in front of her, but her straps are too tight. Green does nothing to aid her.

Pidge notices her hands shake as she unfastens her seatbelt. As soon as they come undone, she falls unceremoniously onto the ground, letting her shoulder take the brunt of the impact.

She lets out a small grunt. It echoes through the empty metal interior of the lion's head, accompanied with the clattering of her armor. Coughing, she pulls herself onto her feet, finding that it takes her much more effort than it should.

Now she stands on the ceiling of the interior of Green's head. Cautiously, she makes her way over to the windshield, and puts her hand against the crack. It spans nearly the entire width of Green's head.

"Don't worry, girl," she says softly. "We'll get you fixed up soon. We just need to find the others..."

She looks up at her control panel. Only now does she realize her third priority: her fellow paladins.

"Keith?" She calls out for the leader first. "Lance? Hunk, Allura, do any of you copy? Coran? Shiro?"

Nobody. She's alone out here.

Pidge huffs. She figures it's too early to freak out about her situation; after all, she's been stuck in a predicament like this a few times before.

She's about to call out her teammates' names again when she looks out beyond the cracks in the shield.

At first she thought it was pure darkness she was seeing. Looking closer, however, she now realizes that distant stars dot the darkness. Green floats through an empty expanse of space.

Strange, she thinks. The stars don't surround the lion. Nor are they easy to see. In fact, they're barely visible, and she can count all of them in her head within seconds. They appear in a cluster around each other, a little ways to the right of her field of view.

She tries to pull up her scanner from her upside-down position to get a reading on her location, but Green doesn't answer her. Her guess is that she's somehow been blasted into a faraway, uninhabited solar system. Pidge guesses she could be anywhere from a few to a few thousand galaxies away from the rest of Voltron.

_Fourth priority?_ she thinks feebly.

Her mind comes up blank. Mentally she wanders back to the thought of Keith, and Lance, and Hunk and Allura and Coran and Shiro and the rebels and the Galra and-- and--

_Matt._

A gasp escapes her mouth. "Matt!" she says out loud. Her brother, her whole world. Yes, her fourth priority.

She can just picture what he'd say to her now. "Fourth? I'm that far down on the list?" With a smirk and a brotherly nudge in the arm, of course.

Pidge misses that more than anything right now. Where is he now? Did she even save him?

_God, I hope so._

Pidge reaches up, and with a great amount of strength, tries to pull herself back up into her seat. It proves to be harder than she thought; she's never had great upper body strength, and her body is too sore to do anything too strenuous at the moment.

She huffs again. _Think, Katie, you're smart,_ she commands herself internally. _There's a way out of every situation._

__

__

_What would Matt do?_

The thought renders her motionless for a second, and then she thinks of him again.

_Matt._ She feels a certain ache in her chest, like her heart is trying to reach out towards him. Her brother. She can't lose him again, not after literal years of searching for him. They've come too far and braved too much to be pushed apart again.

Gritting her teeth, Pidge pulls herself up again, and successfully gets back into her seat. She pulls the straps on and reaches for her joysticks again.

_Come on, do it for Matt,_ she thinks, and her arms extend just enough. Her fingers curl around the joysticks.

"Come on, girl, I need you," Pidge pleads to her lion. "Please. I need you. I need Matt. I need to know he's okay."

She takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. "Please," she says again, a little softer this time. She clears her mind, thinking only of two simple facts:

_I am the Green Paladin._

__

__

_Matthew Holt is my brother._

A third time: "Please." Her lips barely move at this point. "I need to find my brother again."

She feels the connection this time; it's as if a rope flies out of her chest and tethers her to a weight, grounding her. Pidge's grip around the joysticks grow stronger, and a buzz of energy surges through her body.

The screens and lights around Pidge wake up, showering a bright green glow on the Green Paladin's face.

And she feels the rumble in her chest as the Green Lion roars to life.


	2. Alight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge journeys to find her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter might seem a little confusing in the grand scheme of things, but trust me, it's leading up to big things. As always thanks for reading. :)

With its gold eyes alight, the Green Lion hurtles through space, headed for the distant cluster of stars.

The journey is long, and Pidge is impatient, but she doesn't let it show. She sits cross-legged in her seat, swiping through screens on her control panel. She sends out signals periodically, hoping that any one of the paladins will hear her-- but all she gets in return is static.

The radio has been crackling at her for... how long has it been now? Thirty doboshes? A varga, maybe? Pidge is good at mental timekeeping, but being alone in the vastness of space with her thoughts, admittedly, has sidetracked her.

Her elbow is propped on her knee, and her cheek is smushed against her hand. Her head, free of her helmet, is tilted as she continues to swipe through photos on the screen. Most of them she downloaded from Matt, who stored them in a little portable database he invented from spare parts. The photos are from earlier in their childhood, in the months leading up to Matt's departure to the Galaxy Garrison. _Back when life was easier._

Matt, ever the inventor. She smiles sadly at the thought of him.

_Where are you, Matt?_

Pidge sighs, and is just about to put the screens away, when she notices something. There's a strange-looking star out beyond Green's windshield, framed by the screen she's currently looking through.

With a downward swipe of her hand, the screen disappears. Pidge squints, removing her glasses and shoving on her helmet. The star appears to flicker and dim out. Just when Pidge thinks it was a trick of the light, it bursts back into view, glittering as it begins to move.

The alleged "star" hurtles west, arching much like a comet. But then the star begins to zigzag in ways that are definitely not explainable by nature; it bounds back and forth, like a ball in a game of Pong. Immediately, Pidge snaps back to full consciousness and brings up tracker commands on her screens. With a few taps of some buttons, she's got a target locked onto the fast-moving star.

"That can't possibly be any kind of star," Pidge thinks aloud. "It's got to be a ship. Or..." she taps her chin. "It could be a comet trapped between some explosive cloaked crystals, like that crystal field the Galra trapped us in some time ago. Although... comets aren't usually that bright..."

A voice in her head shouts at her. _WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?_

Without another moment's hesitation, she pulls the joysticks back and jerks them forward, the Green Lion pouncing forwards through the air with a sonic blast. It sails in the direction of the zigzagging star, the green crosshair trained on its movements the entire time.

_Please let that be a ship that Matt's on..._

It's definitely unlikely, but she's desperate.

* * *

Approximately fifteen doboshes of chasing down the star ensue, where Pidge's only focus is reaching the object. _It could be a trap,_ she keeps thinking. _Or a trick of the light. Maybe you're hallucinating. There could be nothing there._

A burning desperation inside of her screams that there _has_ to be. She can't be tracking down this object for nothing.

As the object comes closer into her field of view, harsh white light spills onto her lion. Most definitely spherical in form, the object radiates pure energy.

Pidge is gaining on the object, and from here she estimates it's about five times as large as the Green Lion. Meaning it can't possibly be a planet. A comet? Maybe. But she doubts it.

"Come on, girl," Pidge urges her lion. "You can go just a little faster. I know you can, I believe in you."

If Green listens to her, it makes no acknowledgment of it.

"I said, _come on!_ " Pidge is shouting now. "I have to reach my brother! That comet has something to do with it! I'm sure of it!"

Again, Green's speed doesn't change.

Pidge growls. "Why aren't you listening to me?" she groans. "I woke you up just now and now you're ignoring me?"

She nearly misses the comet's increase in speed. It bounces back and forth between invisible barriers, making an endless path of Zs. Pidge follows the comet in a straight line, but she still can't catch up.

Her rage at the Green Lion blinds her, so much that she misses the little teal glows on either side of the comet's path. She misses how they sparkle from the right angle. She misses the way they glitter, how they can't _possibly_ be just trails of cosmic dust. With teeth gritted and lips bared, she misses the warped folds of space-time completely surrounding her. And she misses how the path of teal space-folds become an entire _field,_ twinkling in the expanse of space as she continues her pursuit of the mystery comet.

A belt of sharp, jagged rocks of all colors surrounds the twinkling field of space-folds, much like Saturn's rings, had they been painted rainbow colors. These appear in Pidge's peripheral view, but she pays them no mind. Instead, her sights are hyper-focused on the comet, that _goddamn comet,_ if only she could reach it, if only Green actually listened to her, if only she'd paid attention, if-- if--

Inevitably, she makes contact. Green hurtles head-on into a warped pocket, colored teal, and the collision rocks Pidge's body to the core. She cries out as her lion is immediately thrown backwards-- and straight into another space-time pocket. She crashes again, rebounds again, and the metal interior of her ship groans. Pidge slams up against her seat as she's repeatedly thrown against space-pocket after space-pocket after space-pocket. Each time she crashes into one, the pocket explodes into teal clouds. Green's interior starts flashing red, blaring warning sirens at her, screaming at her that it can't take much more of this before it'll black out again.

Pidge begins to get very dizzy. _No, no, keep your wits about you,_ a small voice inside her speaks up. _You can't give up. You were so close._

Her battered hands squeeze the joysticks and she pulls backward-- only for Green to ram tail-first into another warped pocket. She yanks the sticks upward, hoping that the space-folds are only limited to a two-dimensional plane.

The comet she once was so close to glitters among the rocky belt, its light pooling in her field of view. Weakly she smiles. _You were so close. And yet so far._

A cluster of space-folds attacks the Green Lion's back. _Explosive cloaked crystals,_ she thinks faintly.

Pidge's world is thrust into darkness.


	3. Aptitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is rescued, but must then prove she's worthy of saving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in so long, I've been drowning in schoolwork. Hopefully the fact that this chapter is much longer than the first two will make up for it. :]

A harsh light shines right in Pidge's eyes. Her face contorts as she comes to, and she realizes she's lying sideways against a cold floor, her glasses pressed up against her skin.

She can hear soft footsteps going by, and murmurs surrounding her. Her arms are numb and crackle with a needle-like sensation as she starts to push herself up.

"She's awake," a low voice says. "Get Vrek. Send out a transmission."

Her head is filled with static. A thought wrestles its way into her mind: _first priority, state of health. Any injuries, are you bleeding? Or are you already dead?_

Pidge's entire body aches, though she can't detect any sharp pains or signs of blood. 

_Priority two. I'm not in the Green Lion. Where the hell am--?_

"Green Paladin," a deep voice says. "Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Her third and fourth priorities are completely forgotten. "I'm--" she grunts as she sits up fully. "I think I'm okay. Where am I?"

Pidge's eyes are now wide open, and she adjusts her glasses and looks around. A creature with purple skin, yellow eyes, and a mask lifted up on his head is knelt in front of her, with two similar-looking creatures standing behind him. A few other lookalikes mill about the large facility she's in. All of this looks vaguely familiar, as if she's experienced it in a dream before.

Then she focuses on his dark purple outfit, and something starts to click.

"You're in an outpost belonging to the Blade of Marmora," the creature says. "My name is Ilun. I'm a blade myself. The head of this facility is named Vrek. He'll be here shortly."

 _The Blades, of course,_ she thinks. _Meaning I'm not dead._

Ilun is Galra, without a doubt, as is everyone else she sees. Her tense body starts to loosen. She's in good hands here.

But... where exactly _is_ here?

"How did I get here?" she murmurs. Once she sits up fully, she sees a crack going through the left arm of her armor.

_And where did that come from?_

"You're in the Ulippa system," Ilun explains. "Do you remember anything about a field of cloaked crystals?"

Then it all comes rushing back. The blinking crystals, the comet she chased, trying to save Matt, being stranded, all of it.

Ilun notices that she remembers. "Though some other Marmoran bases use crystals as defense, that field does not belong to us. However, your Lion of Voltron became stranded close enough to us that our scanners picked you up. So we tried to send out a transmission to you, but when there was no response, we assumed you were in trouble."

"Voltron," she blurts out suddenly, quickly rising to her feet. _How did I get as far out as the Ulippa system?_ "I have to get back to Voltron. Please, it's urgent. They need me. The rebels need me."

 _Matt needs me,_ she thinks, _but would they understand that?_

"Ah, ah," a new voice says. This one is not as deep as Ilun's, but somehow more intimidating; it's crisp and smooth, vaguely similar to Lotor's, of all people. "Not so quickly, young Paladin."

The person entering the room is, of course, similar in appearance to the rest of the Blades, but he's taller and leaner than Ilun. Two Blades flank him on either side.

"Green Paladin Pidge," he says. "I am Vrek." She notices that unlike Ilun, he has his three-dotted mask on. "A pleasure to meet you." Then he looks at Ilun. "Put your mask back on. It's disorderly to reveal your face to outsiders."

"Apologies," Ilun says, and lowers his mask onto his face.

Pidge straightens up. Something feels off; she doesn't like the vibe she's getting from Vrek.

"Nice to meet you too," she says. "And thank you for saving me, I really appreciate it. But I need to get back to the rest of Voltron, because we were in the middle of a battle against the Galra and--"

"Let me have a word, if I may, Paladin," Vrek says, and the authority in his voice somehow stops Pidge midsentence. "I understand your mission is important. But while you were unconscious, my fellow Blades and I deliberated for a while, and we decided that we cannot let you go in good conscience--"

It's Pidge who cuts him off this time. "Excuse me?" she snaps. "You're holding me hostage here? Why the quiznak would you want to do that? Voltron is your ally, you know."

"You didn't let me finish," Vrek says, matter-of-factly. "We cannot let you go in good conscience, _unless_ you prove that you are worthy of saving."

"Worthy of saving?" she repeats. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are the first traveler we have ever found stranded in our surrounding area," Vrek explains. "Nobody has ever come this close to our base by accident."

"That can't be true," Pidge counters. "Statistically speaking, there has to have been at least a few people who have wound up here by mistake. It's basic logic."

"Your logic is flawed, then," Vrek says. Pidge twitches slightly. One of her biggest pet peeves is having her intelligence doubted. "You're the first, ever since the establishment of this outpost. And that's significant to us." He starts pacing. "Why would, of all people, a Paladin of Voltron be the first person for us to save?" He looks at Pidge, expecting an answer.

"I wouldn't know," she says blandly. "As I said, the logic doesn't support it."

"Might it be that you were meant to end up here?"

_Oh, so now it's about destiny?_

She thinks back to the comet she was following earlier. It wasn't a comet at all, she thinks, but some sort of strange creature that seemed to be moving as if it had a mind of its own. Like it wanted Pidge to follow. Could that be...?

"No," she says, shutting that train of thought down. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't 'meant' to be stranded here. The only thing I'm 'meant' for is to be a part of Voltron, fighting the Galra with them right now." Her fists clench. "Without me, they can't form Voltron, which makes them vulnerable to our enemies. Who, by the way, are also your enemies."

"You underestimate your fellow Paladins." Vrek stops pacing. "To my understanding, you have taken down a Galra fleet without Voltron before, yes?"

"We have, but--"

"Then surely they can do it again, or stave them off long enough to find an alternate solution," Vrek concludes. "Not to mention, one of your fellow Paladins is a Blade himself, is he not? Or am I mistaken?" The question is posed with barely any inflection; it's clear he already knows the answer.

"He is, but--"

"Then there is no use in arguing, Pidge. The current Black Paladin is where he is because he overcame his greatest obstacles, which he couldn't have done without us. He is worthy." He folds his arms. "Your worth must be tested before we can let you go."

Pidge's face contorts. She's tired of being interrupted; tired of being told who needs her and who doesn't; tired of having her "worth" and, most of all, her intelligence questioned. "I am the Green Paladin of Voltron," she states. "If I'm worthy enough to be a Paladin, I'm worthy enough for you. Now let. Me. Go."

"Silence," Vrek bellows, and every Blade in the facility falls quiet as his voice echoes throughout the room. He approaches her, the Blades once accompanying him staying put. "Your current leader of Voltron became a Blade _after_ he became a Paladin. He proved himself, yes, but he nearly failed his trial. You will find that the qualifications to become a Blade are _much_ different than the qualifications to become a Paladin."

"What do you know," Pidge seethes, "about being a Paladin?"

"More than you might think," Vrek says.

Pidge's voice is quiet, but sharp. "And what if I fail my trial?"

Vrek leans down to Pidge's eye level. "Knowledge or death, young Paladin," he says simply.

* * *

It was a difficult decision, but ultimately, Pidge decided it wasn't in her best interests to attack the Blades and attempt to escape. It was as she'd said: the Blades were her allies, and it wouldn't have been wise to try and fight them.

_Plus... the Blades have been around for centuries. They must know what they're doing._

Pidge is now outfitted in a purple skintight suit, not unlike the underarmor to her usual clothing. There are lights on the chest, back, and ankles of her suit that glow. She's completely unarmed-- no helmet to call for help, no bayard, not even the spare bobby pin she always keeps in the bottom of her pocket. All she has are her glasses and her wits.

She descends in an elevator, accompanied only by Vrek.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks, only the slightest hint of annoyance in her voice.

"To the compound where we hold the trials of Marmora," he says. "Your fellow Paladin completed these trials at our main base."

 _Right,_ she thinks, remembering the base they traveled to in what seems like ages ago. She was so excited to go there, and didn't even get to see the inside of it.

The elevator stops suddenly. The doors slide open, yet Vrek stays put.

"This is where your trials begin," he says simply. "Good luck, Paladin."

"I won't need it," she says, stepping out of the elevator. The doors shut behind her, and Pidge takes in the scene before her. She now stands on a giant, diamond-shaped battle floor. Outside the metal rails of the arena are dark purple walls, made of thick rock. This place is completely closed off from the outside world.

"Wait," Pidge says, turning around. "I don't understand what my goal is--"

But Vrek and the elevator are already gone.

Pidge takes a breath and turns back around. She then notices, at the very opposite end of the arena, a doorway. Maybe that's where she's meant to go.

She's about to take a step when a whirring sound fills the arena, and she stops. A hexagonal shape in the middle of the floor opens, and a single Blade rises from the shaft: her first challenge.

"Surrender the blade," he says, in a rather robotlike voice. He wields a large sword. "You cannot win."

"What blade--?" she starts, but then she stops. Out of the blue, a metal object materializes in her hand: a small dagger with the Marmoran logo glowing purple at the hilt.

She turns it over, but it's the same on the other side. Compared to her bayard, it's almost insultingly small. _Why does this look familiar?_

"Wait, I still don't understa--" she tries again, but the Blade is already rushing towards her; either she makes a move now or she dies.

The Blade takes a swing at her, and she drops to her knees and rolls out of the way. _How is this fair? His sword is five times larger than mine!_ Initial panic is what fills her body and drives her to stop on a knee and swing her dagger back at the Blade. He easily deflects it, and swings downward at her again.

 _Alright, think, Pidge, think,_ she hisses at herself internally. _You've fought people up close before with your bayard. Hell, you knocked out a bounty hunter with your bayard for your brother._

_Yeah,_ another internal voice counters, _except now I don't have the bayard OR my brother!_

She tries rolling out of the way again, but his sword strikes the ground in front of her, and she staggers backward. The Blade swipes at her, and she lunges back, giving herself just enough time to spring to her feet. _Finally._ He swings at her again, and she meets his strike with just enough force to stop him. He swings down; she blocks upward. He swings from the right; she blocks left. They continue this dance, the Blade going full offense and Pidge on full defense, until Pidge realizes she can't keep doing this forever. The blade is taking short, quick steps toward her with every strike, and they add up. He'll eventually corner her if they keep going like this, and when he does, it's all over for her.

His next strike is downward. Perfect. With all the might in her small stature, she forces his sword back upwards, hurls her back foot into his stomach, and swings her dagger diagonally at his neck.

But the Blade sees all this coming. He takes the heel to the stomach, inflicting no injury whatsoever, and moves barely half a step backward, enough to just dodge her swing. She misses, and her arm awkwardly drops as the force she's exerted goes nowhere-- _oh no_ \-- and she loses her balance, staggering forwards. The Blade jumps in the air, spins around what seems like to Pidge an infinite number of times, and round-kicks Pidge in her face. She cries out as her right glass lens shatters and she collapses onto the floor.

 _Get up, get up, get up,_ a voice chants at her, and she does, which amplifies the throbbing in her right temple. The right half of her vision is now warped by spiderwebs of broken glass. The Blade is closing in fast; she tumbles between his legs to avoid his next strike. She pays for this mistake with a kick delivered to the center of her back. Pidge grunts, and she hits the floor on her stomach, limbs splayed out.

She rolls onto her back and lamely scoots away from the Blade, his sword taking strikes at her so fast that all she can see is a whirlwind of metal. Or maybe her brain's been jostled too hard and she can no longer process quick movements.

A swift kick to her ribs jolts her sideways, and the left side of her face crashes into the floor. The left lens shatters, and now she can't see at all. A spark of anger ignites inside of her, _use it,_ she thinks, and her fists clench as she tumbles in the direction she was thrown. Her heels hit the floor and she springs up, turns, and starts to slice at the Blade.

But he's too fast, and she's too blind. The Blade turns his sword backward, stabs at her wrist with the hilt, and as the dagger flies out of her hand, he spin-kicks her ribs again. Pidge cries out, stumbling back, and he takes his chance and aims a swing at her. She screams as the sword slices clean through the shoulder of her suit.

The Blade backs off. He stops, stands back, and points his sword at her.

Pidge hisses under her breath. _Ignore the pain, ignore it,_ a voice snaps, while another begs her, _hit to the head, one to the back, two to the ribs, a cut in your good shoulder, please, you can't keep doing this..._

But Pidge does not give up easily. She takes off her glasses and tosses them on the floor. Her free hand clamps down on her bleeding shoulder, and she points her dagger at the Blade.

"Come on, give me your worst," she snaps. "Is that really all you got?"

Apparently it isn't. He swings at her, but it's a fake-out. She takes the quick half-step back to avoid the blade, but he lunges towards her with a heel to the chest, and she flies backward into the railing.

Pidge growls, ignoring the ache that seizes her entire body. She jumps towards the Blade, slicing at him fast from every angle-- and for once, he's on the defensive. But she knows it's not for long; he barely has to move his arm to counter her attacks, and just when she realizes she can't put up a good enough offense this way, he grabs her arm, twists it, and forces her onto the ground. Pidge hisses in pain, but then a knee meets her spine, and it's over. She cries out as she's flattened against the floor. The sword is brought up to the side of her neck. She's lost.

But then--

"Surrender the blade," the warrior says, "and the pain will cease."

In all honesty, Pidge would love for the pain to be over. But not because it hurts-- she constantly endures worse on her missions with Voltron. No, it's because her self-esteem is starting to take a blow. A Paladin of Voltron, tossed around like a ragdoll and beaten up in two minutes flat. Isn't she better than this?

 _Yes,_ she thinks. _I am._

"No," Pidge chokes out. "I'm not surrendering."

The Blade makes no reaction, other than his next words: "Then the pain continues."

The sword comes away from her neck, and the pressure on her back is gone. Her body trembles as she pushes herself up, and gets on her feet.

Pidge stares at the Blade. He turns his head towards the door at the far end of the arena. "You are not meant to go through that door."

She clenches her fists. "I will anyway."

Pidge scoops up the dagger and runs towards the door, leaving her glasses behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I apologize again that my updates are so far apart (3 chapters in 4 months... yikes lol). I'll try to get it down to 2 updates a month. I've got big plans for this fic, so I hope you stick around. :)


End file.
